


Let Me Clear Your Mind

by ImNotAnOwl



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Fingering, Bottom Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Come as Lube, Come play, Dirty Talk, F/M, Geralt deserves the best and all the orgasms in the world, Geralt is a mother hen, Geralt learning to fucking communicate, Geralt will always be a bottom to Yen, Light Choking, Light Dom/sub, Mentioned Roach (The Witcher), Multiple Orgasms, Not Beta Read, Pet Names, Praise Kink, Rough Sex, Smut, Spanking, Vaginal Sex, anxious geralt, how do I tag this filth, porn with a semblance of plot, self hating Geralt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-22
Updated: 2020-03-22
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:53:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23267272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImNotAnOwl/pseuds/ImNotAnOwl
Summary: Geralt is an overprotective mother hen who can't sleep because he's worried for Ciri. Yennefer can't sleep because of him and is tired of his shit. So she does what she knows best to occupy his overthinking little brain, she takes the matter in hands.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Comments: 7
Kudos: 79





	Let Me Clear Your Mind

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly... it's pure filth. I'm almost sorry. I did not intend to write such a long piece. It took me forever to write this, I had this idea in mind about Geralt worrying for Ciri and Yen being a sort of dom enjoying a soft pet play... so yeah. Here it is.  
> This fic contains a bit of choking, light bondage and spanking so if it's not your thing you should avoid it or read with caution. 
> 
> I hope it's somewhat good. It's not beta read and I got too lazy to re-read carefully by the end of it, so I apologise for any grammar mistake, mispellings or just heavy and bad writing. It's also the first time I write in present tense and I'm a fan of it, so sorry if it feels somewhat off.
> 
> As ever, leave kudos and comments if you like it! The more kudos there are, the more Geralt and Yen orgasm, just saying... 
> 
> Enjoy the smut!  
> xx

For the hundredth time this night, the witcher sighs loudly as he stares at the ceiling, waiting for sleep to come.

“I swear by the Gods Geralt, that if you toss _one_ more time I will portal your ass to the first swamp that comes to my mind,” groans Yennefer, her voice coming from under a heap of black curls.

“I’m sorry,” he mutters. “I just can’t sleep it’s unbearable!”

“Well if you can’t sleep just get up and go do something. Or wait for it to pass. But stop. Tossing. Every. Ten. Seconds.” She snaps.

“Oh I’m sorry to disturb her Ladyship. May I remind her that she is in _my_ bed, and that perhaps, if this does not please her, she could go sleep elsewhere. I’m sure Roach would happily share her hay with another moody ma-“, he stops mid sentence, realising way too late how stupid he was. Yennefer was already turned towards him, her eyes wide open, shooting daggers.

“Careful Witcher, remember what happened last time you were that impertinent with me. Would you really like to spend another week unable to sit properly,” she asks with a raised eyebrow. “As for Roach,” she continues with a smile “I might actually consider it, seeing that most of the time you stink more than her and that she has a nicer temperament.”

“Ah ah ah, you really are the funniest Yen. Jaskier’s sense of humour as rubbed off on you I see” Geralt says dryly. He breathes in deeply and closes his eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for waking you up and for what I said. I’m just… I don’t know, Yen. I’m just restless.”

She sighs and moves closer, cupping his cheek with her left hand, drawing lazy pattern with her thumb.

“Would your restlessness had anything to do with Ciri being out training with Triss without you to watch over, or are you that oblivious to your own feelings?” she asks.

Geralt freezes. “Hmm. Well, yes. Maybe.” he says grudgingly. “But –“

“Geralt, she is not a child anymore,” Yennefer cuts in. “She’s been trained, by me, by you. She knows what she is doing and so does Triss. They are safe. She is safe. You need to let go my love.”

“But I can’t! It’s the first time she is out alone for such a long time. She was supposed to be home before this morning. What if, what if it she got hurt and Triss couldn’t help her? What if they stumbled upon some horde of drowners, or some other beasts that she has never fought before? What if they are held captive in some dungeons, unable to reach for us? What if – “

“Geralt! Enough!” Yennefer snaps. “Look at me,” she orders, holding his chin in her hand, forcing him to face her. “You need to stop. First of all, she is not alone. You and I know very well that Triss is more than able to protect her. Second, you know our Ciri, she is smart and strong. A couple of drowners are nothing for her. And, unlike some people,” Yen smirks, looking at him with fondness, “she knows how to be diplomatic and how to avoid troubles. She is not the one I would ever expect to end up in a dungeon,” she leans to give a quick peck on his lips.

“Now, if you are not able to stop that little brain of yours to spin and worry for nothing, I fear I will have to take the matters in hands. Do you want me to help you clear your mind my love?”

Geralt hums, closing his eyes.

“Look at me and use your words Geralt!”

His eyes snap open, “Yes. Please,” he says, his voice barely audible.

“Good boy,” Yen coos before pressing a soft kiss on his lips. Geralt feels his face getting hotter. He will never fathom the effects this can have on him. He feels almost ashamed of it. Of liking it so much when she is taking the upper hand. Rendering him into a puddle, a soft and pliant toy, that would do anything for her praise. It’s intoxicating, truly.

She breaks the kiss and drawback a little. “Take off your shirt and lie on your back,” she orders. He immediately complies, discards his shirt away and lies down on his back and places his hand above his head.

She hums appreciatively, “I see that our last session has born his fruits. You already know what I expect. Good. Now, do you remember what to say when it’s too much, right?”

“Yes,” he whispers.

“Tell me.”

“Kaer Morhen,”

“Good,” she praises, before climbing atop of him, legs circling his waist. She leans forward and mutters a spell to materialise a soft silky fabric. “Black of course,” thinks Geralt.

She ties his hands, tugging lightly, making sure that all is secured. They both know he could break them he if wanted. They also both know that he won’t.

The smell of lilac and gooseberry invade his senses as her hair tickles his face. He moans as he feels the softness of her flesh caressing his skin. Her nightgown is hoisted up above her thighs and her groin is softly pressing against his abs as she leans. Unfortunately her tits are still hidden from his view behind her dress. What he would do to have a peek at them, so full and rosy, to delicately lick their soft bud, he despairs, lost in his thoughts.

“Patience Geralt,” Yen smiles.

“Stop probing at my thoughts,” he says, “you know I hate that.”

“Well I wouldn’t have to if you were more talkative. As a matter of facts, I kinda have to and I will do it again. I want to make regularly sure that all is fine for you. The more you will communicate about what you feel and what you want, the less I’ll prob,” she says matter-of-factly. “We’ve already talked about it,” she adds, redressing back to her seated position, her hands splayed on his chest, drawing light patterns on his ribs.

“I know… I’m sorry. I’ll try harder,” he grumbles, surprising himself for apologizing yet again, this was not in his habits. But he had to admit she was right, and that the last time he had expressed his desires to her in bed had been a memorable night. The mere thoughts of it sent blood straight to his groin.

“Tell me what you want,” she orders.

Geralt looks at her, “You,” he whispers with a wry smile.

“You already have,” she smiles softly. “What do you want,” she repeats, punctuating every syllable.

“Fuck, Yen, I, I want you. I want to… to taste you,” he finally breathes, averting his gaze.

“That’s my good boy,” she coos, leaning forward, her hands circling his head, grasping at his white hair, as her lips brush softly against his. He groans and responds to the kiss, raising his head to taste more, parting his lips, allowing her to caress him with the tip of her tongue. The kiss deepens as they lose themselves to it, Yennefer pulling and biting at Geralt’s lower lips before licking it slowly.

She leans back, lips wet and shiny, a satisfied grin on her face, before taking off her dress and throwing it across the room. Geralt watches her with attention, eyes glued to her breasts, licking his lips mindlessly. The sorceress leans forward again, before crawling ever so slowly, her mound now facing Geralt’s face. So close to him, yet so unreachable.

“Now, now, my love, stick out that pretty tongue and make good use of it,” she says before lowering herself on his face. Geralt groans, his warm tongue laps between her folds, his lips nipping at her soft flesh, drinking her in eagerly.

“Do I taste good my wolf?” she asks, short of breath, her hips now slowly grinding against Geralt’s face. He hums in assent, the vibration of his voice sending shudders in Yennefer’s body. She grips his head, fingers scrapping at his scalp and tugging his hair as she fucks herself on his tongue.

“Oh my sweet Geralt,” she purrs, “my white wolf. What a nice little puppy you are – ah! Yes. Keep lapping little pup. You are such a good boy, so eager to please his mistress.”

Geralt groans in pleasure. The praises spurring him on as he laps and sucks to her soft flesh. He can’t get enough of her. He’s intoxicated on her scent, he can _taste_ it. His nose his buried against her mound, he’s barely able to breathe as her warm thighs are encircling his head and his hair is being pulled to rhythm her undulating hips. She is so close, he can feel it in her movements and in her voice, strained with exertion. One strong lick of his tongue on her bud triggers her orgasm. She moans his name and praises him again, fingers tugging tightly at his hair. His mouth is overflowed with her juice. He laps and laps, swallowing every drop of it in delight until she becomes too sensitive and drawbacks with a wine. His face is wet, covered with the traces of her pleasure. He licks his lips and smiles proudly as he takes in her sight. She is leaning on her hands in a way that leaves her cunt mere centimetres away from him. Her breasts are heaving rapidly with each breath, beads of sweat pearling on her body. Her face is flushed and her eyes, darker than usual, are fixed on him.

“What a sight you are, little pup,” she whispers. “All wet and shiny from my cum. Now surely you deserve a reward, don’t you think?”

“Yes. Please,” he whines, nodding in earnest.

She drawback further and raises herself on her knees, her hands caress his chest, slowly going down before coming to a rest on the bulge tenting his pants.

“Oh my sweet one, you must feel tight down here. Let me free you. Raise your ass for me,” she coos. Geralt obeys, raising his hips slightly, sighing in relief once his trousers are pulled down, his cock sprang up, finally free from its restraints.

“Hum, all hard and leaking already. Good. You can lie down again love,” she says before sitting on his thighs. She starts to caress softly his cock with a finger.

“Now, you are allowed to come whenever you want. As much as you want. But, I only ask one thing from you: to lie still. I will be the one controlling your body. You will not touch me, you will not touch yourself. You must not move unless I say so. Do you understand Geralt?”

“Yes,” he nods eagerly.

“Good. Any disrespect of this rule will lead to a punishment of my choosing,” she says as she shifts forward, slightly raising up before lowering herself on his cock. She does not let him enter her, she rests on his lying cock before merely gliding against his shaft, her soft wet lips envelopping him. He whines at the feeling, the heat of her, the soft pressure of her lips against him, so delicious but simply not enough. He wishes he could be inside her right now. Filling her to the hilt, her warm walls clenching against him. He rises his hips absentmindedly, lost in his thoughts, only to be brought back to reality to a soft slap on his side. “I said stay still Geralt,” Yennefer snaps.

He groans, trying to regain composure as she resumes her movements, hands pressing on his chest, hips moving ever slowly. She drags herself slowly against him, humming in pleasure at the feeling of her clit dragging against his hard member. When Geralt feels again the warm entrance at the tip of him he thrusts up in reflex.

“I said no!” Yennefer growls raising on her knees before moving to one side of the bed, breaking all contact between their bodies.

“I see that my little pup doesn’t know how to control himself yet. You were such a good boy until now, it’s a shame” she says pouting.

“Well, I warned you. On your front, now,” she orders.

Geralt complies quietly, overcome by both shame and excitement as he turns and places himself on all fours as best as he can with his hands tied.

“You will count them and I expect you to stay still this time. If you move, we’ll start over again. 10 should be enough,” she says, as her hands gently caresses his cheeks.

She takes off her hand and Geralt inhales sharply. He hears the slap before he registers the feeling of it. Heat rushing to his left cheek as he breathes out “one.”

She strokes softly the reddening skin before landing a second one on his right cheek. “Two,” he whispers.

She purrs with each spank, keeping a steady rhythm and alternating sides. Geralt keeps counting, his breathing growing more and more uneven until his hips involuntarily juts forward on the sixth slap.

A frustrated growl leaves his lips as self-depreciating thoughts are already flooding his mind.

“It’s alright Geralt,” she whispers, trying to soothe the shame she can sense in Geralt’s mind. Her hand caresses his lower back softly. “Shh, it’s alright. You were so close, let’s start over. You can take it. I know you can my love.”

He groans softly in assent and raise his hips again.

She resumes her spanking, this time hitting him at the junction of his ass and thighs. Another spank, higher on his cheeks. Then another, changing the spot once again. By the fifth spank Geralt’s whispers are turning to whimpers as he keeps counting. His head feels fuzzy, tears that he cannot control are pooling at the corner of his eyes and he’s _so_ desperately _hard_.

Yennefer takes her time between each slap, which gives him time to recover his breathing, but makes him feel the rush of blood in his body, feeling every ounces of pain. His skin is afire. His muscles start quivering, he knows he won’t be able to hold himself up much longer.

After the eighth slaps she presses her hips against him, the contact on his reddened skin making him whine. Her hand curls softly around his cock and she strokes him lightly. Geralt shudders in pleasure.

“Only two more Geralt. You are doing so good,” she praises.

She withdraws her hand from his cock, shifts back and lands a hard slap on his buttocks.

“Nine,” he cries, tears freely falling now.

“One more,” she whispers, caressing his left thigh.

Her hand crashes on his skin one last time, pain courses through his body, radiating in all his lower back, tearing a scream out of him as he comes undone. His untouched cock spurting on the sheets below him.

“Ten,” Geralt finally breathes out, mustering all his forces to keep still and not crumble on the mattress. His body is shivering with the aftermath of his orgasm and because of the effort of holding himself still. 

Yennefer purrs in delight. She quickly casts a spell to clean all the mess and grabs Geralt’s hips to push him slowly on the mattress, making shift to his left side. She lies down next to him, facing him, and slowly strokes his right cheek wet with tears.

“I know you felt ashamed when you moved in the first round, but you should not. I will _never_ be ashamed of you. It was a lot to take and I knew you would succeed brilliantly. You did so good my love. I am very proud of you,” she whispers, eyes glistening with pride and love. “Do you feel a bit better? Do you understand your punishment?”

He hums in assent, before opening his eyes and seeing her inquiring gaze. She was expecting words, he realises.

“Yes. I do, Yen. It was… a lot. I had never… came because of that before. I – thank you,” he whispers before nuzzling his face in her palm.

She purrs, pleased and softened by both his words and the soft kisses he lands in her palm. “Do you wish to continue sweet little pup, or do want to try and sleep now? Is your mind free enough yet?” she asks.

“Hmm, I don’t think I would be able to sleep yet,” he answers. “I want to please you more. I – I don’t want to be able to think afterwards,” he adds, face heating up at the admission.

“That’s my good boy. On your back then, arms above your head just as you’ve been taught.” She raises herself on her knees again and watches him shift back into his earlier position, his proud cock already hard and leaking.

She goes back to straddling him, resting on thighs. One of her hands grabs his cock as the other starts caressing his side, nails grazing on his skin in an up and down movement, leaving red trail on their way.

“You’re so hard for me already, my pup. I can’t wait to have you inside me. To ride you until you spill inside of me, filling me up so well.”

Geralt’s growls with each movement of her wrist. He needs more. More pressure. More of her touch on his body. More of her praises. More of her. He struggles to stay still, not wanting to fuck it up once again. It is the hardest thing he has ever done this week. He just wants to rut in her tight fist. He wants to move his hands and get a hold of her soft flesh. To bring her breasts to his mouth and suck on her little nub. Lapping them, biting them, tearing soft cries out of her.

“Yennefer, I want to feel you. Please. I need your touch. I need more”, he begs, looking at her with his best sad puppy eyes.

“You will, I promise my love. Be patient,” she whispers.

She shuffles forward and rest once again on him, her wet fold enveloping him. She resumes the movement of her hips just as she did before he disobeyed her earlier. “You will be good now, I know you will. You will be so good and come for me, just like you deserve,” she purrs, her hands roaming on his chest. She plays with his nipples, caressing them softly before tugging at them, eliciting a sharp moan from him. Geralt is lost in the feelings, the warm softness of her against his member combined with the little spark of pain are enough to bring him to the edge, but not enough to find his release.

“Yen, I need more, please,” he begs again. His fists are clenching above his head, restraining himself to move and grab her hips. 

She presses a hand where his heart lays, feeling the soft beating of his heart. It beats faster than usual, but still quite slow compared to a human heart. She uses her hand to support herself and grinds even harder on him, before slowly creeping her hands toward his collar bones then his neck. His breath catches as she encircles his throat with her hands.

“Hmm, you would look so good with a collar my little pup. Would you like that my love?” she asks playfully.

“Yes. Yes, yes,” he answers frenetically, lost to the idea of having his throat constricted by a leather band, showing her he belongs to her, and her only. And to wear it outside of the house eventually, hidden behind his armour, a lovely reminder of who he belongs to. He blushes at the thoughts and feels himself growing impossibly harder.

“Hmm, I will think about it for next time and see what I can do. I’m sure I will find something nice for you to wear. Until then, you’ll wear the marks I leave on you,” she says before squeezing her hands, careful not to squeeze to tight, allowing the hair to pass.

She releases the pressure for a few seconds, her hips still grinding against him before squeezing again. Geralt moans wantonly under her, a continuous stream of moans now leaving his mouth.

“Again, do it again,” he rasps.

She obliges him, releases the pressure and squeezes even harder this time, her thumbs caressing the hollow of his throat. Geralt bucks under her, coming hard against her folds, filthy sounds leaving his lips. She won’t chastise him for moving this time, she lets him writhe under her, body shaking with the shock of his orgasm. She immediately let go of his throat and slides a hand to his brow, caressing him in a soothing manner, grounding him back to her. 

“You are beautiful my love, so beautiful,” she murmurs, hips still moving against him, spreading his cum all over his middle but neither of them care. She leans forward and kisses him languidly. They stay like this for a few minutes, slowly kissing, regaining their breath and basking in the pleasure of being close to the other.

Yennefer places her arms around his head, holding herself on her arms, before sliding backward, leaving a trail of sloppy kisses on Geralt skin as she goes down lower and lower. She shifts and places herself between Geralt’s thighs and nuzzle his groin, lapping at some of the cum that had leaked downward. Geralt looks down, mesmerized by the obscene scene of Yennefer lapping at his cum, biting softly his flesh and nuzzling his skin. Some of her dark locks are trailing in his cum he realises, but she does seem to care which knowing Yennefer it’s quite surprising. This sight is making his cock twitch, he could watch her for hours, seeing her red little tongue darting out of her plushy lips, licking his groin and the inside of his thighs like a starved kitten. He gasps when she nips at his balls, blood shooting down his groin in response. He’s not sure he can be hard that quickly, but Yen seems definitely eager to try. She focuses on his balls for a moment before moving to his cock, engulfing him in one go, her hot mouth closing on him. He groans in pleasure. She bobs her head slowly and coils her fingers around the part she cannot reach.

“Yen, you feel so good, please don’t stop. Never stop,” he keens in despair.

She raises her head and let go of him with a loud pop, a string of saliva falling down on his cockhead.

“Hmm, I won’t, I promise. I know just what you need,” she says with a mischievous smile.

She grabs a pillow lying next to him and places it under his hips. She resumes her ministration on her cock, alternating between licking the side of him and taking him in her mouth this time. As she does so she brings her right hand on his navel and dip two fingers in the cum that lander her. She coats them conscientiously before bringing them under his balls. She circle his hole with her fingers, spreading his cum around it and trying to get some inside. Geralt shudders under her touch. Knowing what’s coming he does his best to relax and to exhale slowly. They’ve done it a few times, but never when he was so helpless and so tired. And never after coming twice already.

Her head bobs up and down again, he hardens between her lips and she pushes one finger inside him. He wails at the intrusion, discomfort subsiding rapidly to leave place to pure pleasure. She fucks him for a while before scooping more cum again and inserting two fingers this time. She moans continuously against his member. Her hips are grinding helplessly on their own, she’s lost in the pleasure of giving. She moves her fingers inside him, angling them differently to reach that little bundle of nerves that will make him see stars.

She relaxes her throat to take him even further and increases the speed of her fingers, rubbing that sweet spot until he comes down her throat, his hole clenching against her fingers. He gasps and open his mouth in a silent scream. Pleasure coursing through his body, his cock spurting an obscenely amount of cum. The sensations are so intense he’s almost in pain, but again, a delicious, mind blowing pain. This seems to be the themes of the night apparently. Yennefer knew her ways when it comes to blow his mind with sensations, he muses.

She gulps down all she can swallow, some drops of it dripping for her mouth, before releasing him with a satisfied smile. She looks up at him, takes in his flushed skin, covered in sweat, chest heaving rapidly as he regains his breath.

“You taste so good my little pup. Taste yourself for me,” she whispers before bringing running drops of cum to her mouth, not swallowing yet. She climbs up towards him and kisses him, parting her lips and pushing his fluid between his lips. He accepts the gift, submitting to her wishes and swallows with a growl.

She breaks the kiss and grabs his hand above his head.

“You’ve been very good tonight Geralt. I believe you deserve a gift. I will untie you know, you can touch me if you wish to, while I ride you,” she purrs.

He whines at the thought. “I can’t come again,” he breathes out.

“Of course you can, darling. Just one last time,” she answers, nuzzling her nose against his.

She unties the bound and massages his sore wrist before placing his hands on her breasts.

“I know you’ve been lusting after them all night long, you can take care of them now,” she says with a devilish grin.

He immediately fondles them, caressing the hardened buds with his thumbs, caressing the curve of her boobs softly.

She scoots down to his groin again, takes hold of him again and with a few flicks of wrist brings him to a decent semi-hardness. Enough for her to sink on him. The sensation of his length hardening is almost painful to him. “Yen. I don’t think I can, I’m so sorry. I- I can’t.”

“Shh, let go. Follow my moves, you can move now. You’ve earned it. Let go and trust me.”

She starts raising herself, arms braced around him, before sliding down again, grinding her hips forward with each thrust. And he tries to obey. He lets go of his restraints as his hands are roaming over her body. He’s too lost in the sensation he’s feeling to control his movement, he’s just grabbing and caressing every parcel of skin he can touch. He slides a hand in her mane, tugging at the soft locks to bring her mouth close to his.

He’s desperately hard again. He didn’t even think he would be hard again but here he is, throbbing in her the sweet warmth of her. Chasing his release, he starts thrusting his hips upward, meeting her halfway, which elicits sweet cries from her whenever their hips collide. He can’t form proper words anymore, he’s whispering her name over and over, like prayer to the gods.

She kisses him before lowering her mouth to his neck, sucking bruises next to the line left by her hands. She tastes his sweat, his earthy scent. She will never admit it to him, but she grew to love this smell. No matter how often he baths he can’t get rid of the lingering smell of his horse. She snorts and crunches her nose at the thought, now is _not_ the time she wants to have Roach in her mind. She pushes away the thought and goes back to her sucking and biting in between her moans. She can feel him nearing his end, and she is so, so close too.

She quickens her pace and spurs him on with a shaky voice. “That’s it my love. Yes. Harder. Ye- yes. You’re so good. Oh so _so_ good. My good boy.”

He sneaks a hand in between them and starts rubbing her as best as he can. Wet sounds are filling the hair. He whispers her name with each thrust, lost in the feelings.

“Harder. You’re so close, I know you are. Cum for me my wolf, cum for your mistress. Oh!” A shattering orgasm crashes through. She moans loudly in the crook of his neck before plunging her teeth in his skin, biting him hard at the junction of his neck. The sharp pain blends with the maddening clenching of her walls around him. He comes with a shout, unable to restrain himself, so loud that probably all of the village hear him. Just as they come down from their high, Yen spread on him, his member softening inside her, they hear the front door crash open. “Geralt?! Are you alright, I heard your scream from the stable!” a worried voice came from the entrance of the house, rapid steps coming toward their bedroom.

Yennefer is the first to react. She jolts and looks at Geralt with wide eyes. “Fuck. It’s Ciri,” she whispers.

“Yes. Yes! He had a nightmare, he’s fine love. You can go to bed, we’ll see you tomorrow morning,” she answers in a hurry, her voice still hoarse from their fucking.

What a fool, she thinks, Ciri will never believe this, she can probably smell the smell of sex floating from their bedroom. She blushes deeply. Ciri might not be child anymore, she still feels weird at the idea of being caught in the act, or even post act, by her daughter.

She hears Ciri halt in her stride and suppress a giggle. “Alright Yenna. Good night then. Goodnight Geralt!” The she hears turn and walk toward her bedroom.

She looks at Geralt who’s blushing hard, mortification printed all over his face. “Well, at least now we know she’s home and safe,” she giggles before landing a soft peck on his lips.

“Will you be able to sleep soundly now, my love?” she asks as she shifts to lie back next to him, intertwining her legs with him, a hand across his chest. She draws a quick spell to clean what’s left of his cum on his body. She can’t bother to do more, they will bath in the morning.

He hums in happiness. “Thank you. For everything. This was… more than I could ever ask,” he answers with a sleepy voice. He can’t say more, he feels slumber taking over him.

His body is aching, his mind barely able to think coherent thoughts after the wonderful fucking he had. He feels utter and profound happiness, his daughter is safe and home and his Yennefer is snuggled against him.

“Sleep well, then, my sweet wolf,” Yennefer whispers, feeling herself being drawn to sleep. She presses closer to him and they both fall fast asleep, basking in the love they feel for each other, for their found family. 


End file.
